


Knight After Night

by Jane St Clair (3jane)



Category: Batman (Comics), The Authority
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-07
Updated: 2011-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-22 09:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/236368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3jane/pseuds/Jane%20St%20Clair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack has a discussion with Batman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knight After Night

He dreamed that someone in cape and cowl came to him after a battle  
and stood over him, but instead of Midnighter, it was Batman.  Cape,  
cowl, moulded rubber armour, the whole deal.  The gloves had spikes on  
the sides, but they were only leather.  The grip that helped him up  
was almost as steady, but the eyes behind the mask tried to push him  
back down.  Huge intimidation factor.  Like the man wouldn't be  
anything if the world didn't cower at his feet.

Batman said, "You've got a serious attitude problem there, chum."  

He thought seriously about throwing back something really childish,  
like *Takes one to know one.*   Possibly even, *I know you are but  
what am I?*  Very mature.  Absolutely the sort of thing to set Batman  
shaking in his boots.

Up close, Batman smelled like rubber and leather and something smoky  
that reminded him of high-air pollution.  Ozone and hydrocarbons.  He  
had very wide, thin lips.

They were already on a rooftop.  Rubble down below and some  
unidentified human remains splattered on the asphalt.  The city  
whimpered a little, like the aftermath of a really good night of S&M.  

Batman said, "Them.  It bothers you."

Meaning Apollo and Midnighter.  The former of whom was currently  
perched on a pile of bricks somewhere down below with the Midnighter  
at his feet.  Any brick he threw off the edge of the roof would knock  
at least one of them stupid.  He thought about it.  Didn't try it.

He wanted to say that it didn't *bother* him exactly, but it didn't  
come out like that when he said it.  It came out more like, "Do they  
*have* to?"  

"Be gay?"

"Kiss.  Cuddle.  Make sweet, messy, noisy love."

"At all?"

"In front of me."  And didn't *that* sound pathetic.  Nobody loves  
Jack.  Just because his eyes glow in the dark and he eats heavy metals  
for breakfast and inanimate objects talk to him.  Even Angie had  
horror in her eyes the first time he stepped out of a wall and pushed  
his hand through some asshole's throat.

"They're not allowed to kiss in front of you."

"Preferable yes."

"You're a very repressed man, Jack."

"And I'm sitting on the roof of the British Exchange in Jakarta  
talking to Batman.  And I spent most of my childhood being abducted by  
aliens.  Repressed is a very small problem in the great scheme of my  
psyche."

Batman grins at him.  It's a strange look, complete with pale lips and  
a lot of almost-pointed teeth, and some wrinkles around the eyes that  
are almost invisible under the rubber.  "I'll allow you that mental  
health is overrated.  But you might want to consider catching queer  
sometime."

He choked on that.  Almost woke up for a second.  He had a flash of  
his room on the Carrier, of his couch, of little legless, huge-headed  
creatures outside who were dancing with spiders.  His brain  
simultaneously declared *this is very bad, you were better off  
dreaming* and *hey asshole, you don't sleep*, and the shock pushed him  
back down.

Batman was still staring at him.  "You seem to be attention-deficit as  
well.  You might want to consider medication."

"You think I should *catch queer*?"

"It has its moments."  Batman glanced over the side of the building.    
Below them, Apollo and Midnighter were listening to Jenny rant.    
Apollo was wrapped almost completely around his partner, white light  
over leather, like some twisted holy symbol.  Jack bent over to see  
what Batman was looking at and got an eyeful of Apollo bending down to  
kiss the Midnighter softly just behind his ear.  Of Midnighter raising  
an absent hand to stroke the back of Apollo's neck.  Jenny's rant  
didn't break stride and the chaos of the world kept moving around  
them.

Jack said, "Look, don't take this the wrong way, but aren't you  
supposed to be the big, butch superhero?  I mean Superman, him I could  
see.  It's just the whole Captain Underpants look taken to its logical  
conclusion.  No straight man would have put that outfit together.    
But, um . . ."

"Jack, you are the only person left living who thinks my relationship  
with Robin is platonic."

Jack sputtered.

"Jack, grow up.  Please.  Go out, get laid, loosen up.  Go clubbing.    
Dance.  Get high on car exhaust.  Something.  The drug-induced  
superheros of the world are asking you nicely."

Jack thought harder about dropping a brick on the now-necking Sun King  
and Night's Bringer of War.  "I'm never letting the Doctor near my  
drink again.  What the hell did he give me?"

Batman put out a gloved hand and caught the back of his head.  Pulled  
him in.  Kissed him.  Very soft lips and more than a hint of stubble  
\-- five o'clock shadow times three o'clock in the morning.  Tongue in  
his mouth.  Wet, messy.  Mouth open on his mouth, teeth meeting,  
leather cowl cool and sexy against his face.  One of his hands came up  
and rubbed the back of the hood, feeling stitching and the leather's  
memory of thousands of nights.  If he had to rub his mouth raw to curl  
his toes this good, he'd make the sacrifice.

Batman pulled back and left Jack panting, half pushed forward to  
straddle one rubber-clad knee.

Soft, growling voice that said, "You *are* desperate."  A gloved hand  
snaked out, rubbed Jack's crotch where the erection was a noticeable  
force, and then came up to stroke his short (receding, if he admits  
it) hair.

He looked over the edge at Apollo and the Midnighter, whose kissing  
was rapidly involving the loss of clothing.  He looked up and Batman  
leapt off the other side.

He woke up.  His couch had underwear lying across the back of it, and  
there were a lot of clothes on the floor of his room.  He decided that  
in case he let himself be drugged asleep ever again, he was going to  
have to get a bed to crash on.  

He should have spent the night in Sarajevo.  

The inside of his mouth tasted like leather.  The things outside the  
window stared in at him.  Laughed.  Kept dancing with their spiders.


End file.
